


Pure Starlight Eyes

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Blindfolds, Blindness, Curse Breaking, Dubious Consent, Forbidden Love, Forced, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Male Slash, Please Don't Hate Me, Poor Bilbo, Sad, Suspense, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Bilbo is captured before he can free the dwarves from the elves dungeons, and taken to the elven king. Thranduil senses that Bilbo loves Thorin and tries to make the Hobbit yield, but his beliefs are too deep. Bilbo does not see the truth. So Thranduil decides to make him a deal.(Give me your eyes, and if you can make Thorin Oakenshield love you before the end of your journey then you will see in nothing but pure starlight forever. But if you should fail then you'll never be able to see again.)What will Thorin think of Bilbo once he learns that he is blind? What will everyone do? Will he still love Bilbo?





	Pure Starlight Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A Bilbo x Thorin story! Warnings in the tags. Depending on the feedback, I might write more to this story. It all just depends on ya'll ;)
> 
> In the meantime.... 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys reading and has a nice day!

Bilbo crept up the stairs and down the many twisted halls of the Woodland Realm, searching for the dwarves. The ring was fashioned around his finger, preventing him from being seen whilst his steps lightly moved along. Anytime he heard noise or someone approaching, he would freeze or hide against a random wall until the strangers passed. Then he would resume his task.

The castle was intimidating and beautiful. Bilbo wished they could have been taken as guests instead of prisoners so that he may better look around and get a feel of the enchanting place.... And maybe he could spend a little bit more time with a certain dwarf. But this situation was not the time to get comfortable. He needed to find the pack and set them free.

Bilbo strolled down the hall, quickly and quietly, thinking about what victory he might accomplish when he saves his friends. Maybe Thorin might look into him even more? Maybe he could see the good and willingness inside Bilbo and open up his heart? Or maybe doing this could earn the Hobbit another magnificent hug? Bilbo eagerly walked down a steep set of stairs that directed him to the dwarves endless arguing and griping.

When he stopped beside the first cell to let a guard pass by, he took in a deep breath and pulled the ring off his delicate finger. Then the real world snapped back into place and he gasped. It was darker than he thought, and the place was big beyond imagination. Bilbo looked around for a second before bracing himself to swiftly jump out and unlock the doors.

But before he could do anything, someone grabbed him none too gently by the wrist and yanked him back. Bilbo made a startled noise as he was pulled forcefully in front of someone's body. He looked up at the tall elf with brown hair and dulled frown, with wide eyes. Words died in his throat and he struggled to find his footing. The elf's lips puckered and he huffed before turning around and dragging the halfling along behind him.

Thranduil had suspected something out of order in the castle, so seeing this loose halfling was not surprising. In fact, it was interesting. Thranduil watched from where he sat peacefully in his throne as his loyal servants brought the small being to him. He studied the hobbit's calm yet flustered posture as he tried to regain his balance every time he stumbled. The being was dressed nicely but his clothes must have been roughed up do to traveling with dwarves. But the real question was: why was he with the dwarves?

When the guards stopped before the king, they tossed Bilbo forward causing him to nearly fall in front of the white elf's feet. Thranduil looked up at his servants and whispered something only in his tongue that meant 'gentle, Meham, gentle,' and he commanded them to stand by.

Bilbo quickly stood back straight and looked down at his feet, panting slightly as he tried to calm himself. He tried to appear small and sorry, not sure what to expect from Lord Thranduil based on the stories he had been told. Bilbo could feel those eyes resting upon him like a cool winter storm when the snowflakes are far from touching and yet freezing everything at the same time. It made him feel overpowered already because he was just a small fawn willing to survive in that storm.

"What is thy name, halfling?" Thranduil asked, tilting his own head up.

The king watched as the hobbit blinked as if shocked and looked up at him with blue eyes that practically screamed that they had experienced too much too fast. They wanted to be anywhere that wasn't here, they were afraid and loyal, willing to withstand anything but also quite suspicious and uncertain. The halfling shifted to the left, his hands clenching at his sides.

"I am Bilbo Baggins," He answered, making eye contact and feeling as if a demon were pawing at his soul. Those eyes were so astonishing and earnest.

"A divine name for such a mellow creature who was attempting to steal my keys and set loose my prisoners," Thranduil said calmly at first, but at the end his voice grew a small harshness to it and he leaned forward. "What business would such a primitive being have with dwarves?

Bilbo had alternated between looking at his feet and the king, unsure of what levels of rudeness were their standards. He didn't know how exactly to walk around this. "I-I signed a contract," Bilbo smiled, trying to appear certain about it, "I pledged my service to Thorin Oakenshield to aid him on their journey."

"And what qualities do you possess?" Thranduil further asked, feeling his curiosity rise.

Bilbo bit his lip and kept his smile, "Well I'm not one to sound boast but I am quite adequate when it comes to tracking and preparing meals for the night. T-these dwarves are in desperate need for an extra hand when it comes to hunger."

"So it would seem," Thranduil was beginning to find this small being amusing and appealing. He stood up from his throne causing the small being to take a few steps back. Patiently putting his hands behind his back, Thranduil lifted his head proudly and gazed in the direction his prisoners were in. "Thorin Oakenshield made no mention of a halfling accompanying him."

Bilbo cut in, stuttering, "I-I would not lie, now, I have absolutely no reason to lie."

"And I believe you," Thranduil turned to look at the hobbit, catching that pleasing startlement in his expression, "But there are other circumstances that would hail from enduring the massacre and tragedy of both orc and dwarf.… One if so forbearing would not strain so infinitely to rescue one or the other."

Bilbo was losing his smile, "N-no, they are not just tragic dwarves. They are well trusted and strong companions when given the opportunity to prove oneself wrong. In the beginning I believed it suicide and a waste of both time and talents. I cannot tell you how many times I wished to go back, to go back now, but I'm still not going to."

Thranduil lifted his head even more, his voice so smooth and calm. "You withhold great compassion and potential as a being who is purposeful and sprightly, and yet you waste it on one such as Thorin Oakenshield who is peremptory and coarse."

"Thorin is not like that," Bilbo protested, trying to ignore all the nice things the elven king was saying about him.

Thranduil leaned down, his face just a mere foot or so away from the hobbit. "Do explain? I am courteous, Mr. Baggins, I will listen. For centuries now I have waited for a being to overpower my own outlook."

Bilbo's eyes squinted and he shook his head a little bit, confused. "Wh-what are you speaking? I-I do not wish to overpower the way you see things." He sputtered, making it sound absurd.

"Then tell me, halfling, what is Thorin Oakenshield in your eyes?" Thranduil finally asked. He had a idea about this sweet, intelligent hobbit, but if his premonition was correct then he'd be unimpressed.

Bilbo shifted, this time in nervousness and maybe even a twinge of humiliation. It was something he was unaware the elves could detect easily. He felt a small heat in his cheeks but replaced all that with his innocent, sweet smile. "I see a very distinguished, passionate, qualified king who's company I am very proud and honored to be in." He answered with a small nod.

"That is the expectation of advancing forward," Thranduil exclaimed and raised his eyebrows before bending down faintly, "I wish to know what exactly you see in Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo, once again, shifted on his feet and scrunched his nose. He looked at the floor and thought about the king of the Lonely Mountain. "I see a very long lasting, noble friend," he smiled up at the elf, confident with his answer, "A friend who I can see, without a doubt, picking me up and carrying me if ever I should fall."

"You love him," Thranduil stepped back as if offended and resembled a scoff.

It was even enough to send Bilbo off balance and he jumped back, his surprise not so settling this time. He gasped when one of the guards pointed a long sword at his back in case he tried to flutter away. "I beg your pardon?" Bilbo's puzzled voice squeaked and he looked up at the king.

"Meham," Thranduil signaled the elf who brought Bilbo up here forward.

Bilbo tried listening as the two elves spoke in their own questionable tongue. He couldn't understand anything and tried looking around for a place to escape, but the elf behind him towered hungrily as if daring him to make a move. Instead, Bilbo stayed still and worked through the flustering problem.

After Thranduil was finished speaking with Meham, he stood back and eyed the hobbit with intense desire. Bilbo gulped and raised his hands up in surrender when the elf came for him and grabbed him by the hand. He flinched some but realized that the elf was not forcing him as harshly as before. "Follow," he heard him speak roughly.

Bilbo quickly flashed a quizzical look over at Thranduil and stuttered, "Whoa, hold on a second, a-where is he taking me?"

Thranduil sat down in his throne and lifted his hand out as a gesture for Meham to continue on. "You see much in Oakenshield, halfling. I would soon rather fix that problem than have a far from deserving prisoner in my chambers."

Bilbo tried to make words reasonable enough for the king to reconsider, but was drained by fright and confusion. At first guess, he would think this as execution, but the elf was being much to careful with him. Perhaps Thranduil would send him to the dungeons? It was the only thing that made any possible since.

Bilbo kept his head down for the most part, walking down stairs when needed to and fiddling with his hands. The elf Meham had a firm but gentle hold on his shoulder which calmed him for the torture part. He led him through a vast series of hallways and large doors before stopping upon a opening in the wall. The sounds of endless running water tickled his ears as well as the fresh feel of wind and cool tree essences. They were letting him go?

The open doors they walked through made the hobbit stare in wild amazement. The room was half gates and wooden walls with part of the freshly flowing creek running through it. There were a few elves, females and males, bathing in the large lake like bed of the gentle creek. Bilbo kept taking in every piece of scenery and decoration. Truly baffled and amazed.

The guard holding him awoke him from his wonderment and twirled his finger in the air. "Strip," he ordered, face demanding and hateful.

Bilbo tilted his head and stared like what the elf said was absolutely ridiculous. "'Strip?' As in take off my clothes in front of all these elves?" he asked, sounding disbelieving.

Meham grabbed him by the shoulder and threatened to give him bruises, "You will do as Thranduil commands, and I would not test his patience nor mine, halfling."

Bilbo felt an uneasy knot forming inside his belly. More than just fear was taking him over and making him turn red. He shifted, trying to get that large hand off him. But he knew there was no other way of getting out of this. Looking down in both shame and embarrassment, he timidly slipped the safe fabric of his jacket off his shoulders... And then slowly, everything else as well.

Thranduil had checked with his guards about the dwarves and made sure that no one breathed word about their new guest. Then he made way back to his throne and waited for an occasional hour to an hour and a half before Meham came walking up.

"My Lord Thranduil," Meham bowed respectfully, "I believe the guest has now been accustomed to your fitting."

Thranduil stood up gracefully and nodded his head, "My blessings, Meham. Did the halfling premote more complications than what necessary?"

Meham straightened himself, "No, your majesty. He was all quiet and cooperated to high levels of consent... The halfling is different."

Thranduil could only guess how so. He lifted his chin and began walking in the direction of his personal chamber. Meham followed behind in case of future purposes or if the hobbit needed to be disciplined. Usually the king of Mirkwood was graceful and elegant, always walking with such a flow, but right now he was quick and hurried. His cape flew behind him as well as his hair while his eyes focused intently on where they were going.

When he arrived upon his personal quarters, he turned to Meham and whispered for him to stand by whilst he dealt with the guest. Then he opened his door and looked around, immediately spotting the hobbit setting on his bed. He internally grinned in victory but did not show his amusement physically. He simply cleared his throat and shut the door.

Bilbo gasped and quickly lifted his head, arms pulling at the binds wrapped around his wrists. He was sweating faintly and gritting his teeth, unsure of who entered the room and feeling uneasy. He hadn't been hurt... Yet. But he feared that now he would be. There was a cloth wrapped around his eyes, preventing him from properly seeing anything and all his clothes were missing except for a nice, clean pair of trousers.

"Who's there?" Bilbo breathed in distress, clearly scared and worried.

The elf Meham had made him strip all his clothes off and get into the fresh spring water where he was given special cloths to wash with. The confusion that washed over Bilbo did not compare to the utter fright he felt right now. After he had cautiously washed, Meham helped him to dry off, gave him the soft garment and guided him to a female elf who sat him down for a while and worked on his hair. Bilbo didn't know exactly what they did but his head felt blessed by the contact of such gentle fingers scratching and running through his fluffy hair. But what happened afterwards was not as favorable. Meham took him here to this room and made him set at the end of the beautifully designed bed, then he gave him horrifying threats to be still while he tied his wrists and ankles with soft silk bond and blindfolded him with a blue cloth.

Thranduil studied the hobbit's position and found himself quite pleased. Meham had done a splendid job. The Hobbit was setting at the end of his pearly bed, his legs slightly split and tied to the end bed posts by the ankles. His arms were spread like wings beside his head, tied more upwardly to the bed post, and his head squirming around as if trying to rid the blindfold.

"How does it feel, halfling?" Thranduil asked in his softest triumphant voice, his legs now maneuvering over to the hobbit. "To be blind to all that is general and standard, never seeing what is practically bathed upon all others, and listening because it is the only possibility though unfavored and rather less desired than sight itself."

"Y-Your majesty, please, I-I do not understand the meaning of this," Bilbo shook some and tried leaning back, not sure how close or far away that voice was. He fretted the worst in the placement he was forced in, and not being able to see.

"That is because you do not see," Thranduil stopped directly in front of the hobbit, looking at his bare chest and arms. "You undertake not of which importance lies before you and assume only what  
tactility is given to you."

"Please, I-I do not understand," Bilbo tried shaking his head, hands clenching on nothing and body desiring freedom. The bonds didn't hurt, but he still felt uncomfortable. "This is absurd. I have done nothing to you."

"That is where your wrongness stands out, dear halfling," Thranduil corrected and leaned forward, his face inches away from those trembling lips, "Your beliefs are a corruption. My intentions only repress desires to advise you on behalf of what you believe... And that belief is that Thorin Oakenshield loves you."

Bilbo shuddered, feeling and smelling the king's icy breath as it skimmed across his soft flesh. He panted, freaking out but staying stable enough to converse. "So that is what t-this is all about," Bilbo had a grudge to his voice and he took in deep breaths, back arching to free himself, "My affections for Thorin?"

"They are not 'affections,'" Thranduil said the word with spite and pulled away, "They are at most mistaken, astray beliefs and sickening of mindful beings such as you."

Bilbo tried pulling on the restraints, whimpering when they gave him no relief. He was unknowning that Thranduil had specifically asked for him to be tied in such a way that did not hurt his wrists or wear his back. There was still always discomfort however. Bilbo breathed deeply, trying to calm down and get through this. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, but he figured it wasn't anything good.

"You are enthralled in lust," Thranduil pointed out, sounding disgusted yet satisfied as well, "A lust that is greatly misplaced like a rabbit amongst wargs. You fail to see it."

"See what?" Bilbo asked, giving up and just wanting to know what was going on, "How is my love misplaced? H-how would you know anything about my love life?"

Thranduil was moving around in front of him, but Bilbo could not tell how. He wasn't touching him which was a good sign. "I know that it is misplaced amongst a dwarf who's possessions in life vary only with that of gold, jewels... Treasure. You feel that which is true may be changed so that rival your desires."

"So what?" Bilbo breathed, his chest rising and falling with every passing second, "I-I admit that my admiration for Thorin has gone past its limits, but I still see a very strong capability inside him. An ability to change..."

"To love you," Thranduil said as if it were disgusting, his voice differing from moment to moment. He leaned forward and touched Bilbo's shoulder where a small scar had formed in the shape of a circle. "You do not see, halfling, or perhaps you've chosen not to see that Thorin Oakenshield could never love you."

Bilbo tensed when he felt those warm fingertips brushing gently over his shoulder and collar bone. "W-what on earth are you doing?" he asked shakily, fearing that the king might choke or brutally scratch him.

"Tell me, halfling," Thranduil dragged his fingers down the soft, clean, delicate flesh of the hobbit's chest and belly. "What of these wounds? What were they inflicted by?"

Bilbo gulped, trying to lean back but to none avail. He tried holding his breath to bring his belly in but those intruding fingers just kept touching him. Deciding that maybe answering questions would get this elf off him, he'd cooperate. "Goblins mostly," he smiled, unable to see the look on the king's face, "Rough traveling as well."

"And these bruises?" Thranduil traced over large bumps and darkly colored skin. The hobbit had one on his side and both arms making the king wonder.

"I fell in the woodland," Bilbo explained, breath hitching, "Fighting spiders."

Thranduil felt all his hope dissappear and he withdrew his fingers. The hobbit had no bruises on his thighs or anywhere else particular, just a few scratches here and there. "A brave effort that is to have fought so stoutly against a pack of ruthless creatures all to save that which your heart feels love. And yet you do not see."

"I do not understand what you mean, I do not know what you want or a-anything else," Bilbo was getting mixed up.

Thranduil stood up to his full height and put his hands back behind his back, looking down at the halfling with glistening eyes. "I want you to imagine Thorin Oakenshield loving you."

"I-I beg your pardon, what?" Bilbo shook his head, thinking that a ridiculous want.

"When you think about your precious Thorin, imagine all the wondrous things you'd want from him," Thranduil silenced the hobbit and made him still, "It feels like a delicacy beyond all else. And whenever you discover the true meaning of such quantity, you will feel a bond stronger than ever."

Bilbo couldn't help but to imagine that. Thorin finally opening up and giving him all his love. Those big arms wrapped around him every night, the gentle hum of a strong chest protecting a mighty heart beneath, and the praises of true consent and comfort. And when love finally does happen, everything will have tripled in meaning and power, their bond growing stronger. Bilbo smiled at the pictures forming inside his head and for once he was glad the blindfold was on.

"Now imagine, by the time you breech the Lonely Mountain, Thorin's corruption takes place, and all that love will have suddenly vanished. The monster beneath Thorin's heart will beckon leaving you none less forgotten than a reek atrocity." Thranduil whispered, "The arkenstone."

This is where Bilbo began to cringe, his heart pounding and his fists clenching. He pictured that. When they make it to the king's mountain, Thorin will be corrupted by power, jewels and the throne. No longer will he find a simple burglar important. And even if Bilbo had won his heart for a short while, the arkenstone will take what is left and banish him from Thorin's heart.

"No... No, no," Bilbo lowered his head, squirming slightly before looking up, "I do not see it. Thorin would never do that to me."

"Then allow me to make you a deal, halfling," Thranduil smiled somewhat, feeling confident about his choosing, "Give me your eyes and I will set the dwarves free. You will have only so long to gain Thorin Oakenshield's heart and right of love before the spell becomes permanent. If you fail to gain his love then you will be blind forever."

Bilbo nearly choked. That's what this was all about? Giving his eyesight to some lunatic, love rejected king? "That is... preposterous, now, I should not have to lose my eyes simply because I believe someone will love me. That is not right, it's unfair and I do not agree."

"Your eyes are mine for the taking, halfling," Thranduil spoke calmly, almost sounding sincere, "I am offering a fitting bargain on behalf of your conquest. I will take your sight, release the dwarves, however, if Thorin Oakenshield should fail to love you then you will be blind until the end of your days."

"Oh my..." Bilbo couldn't say anything more. His throat dried as if sand had been poured down it. He didn't want to be here, he didn't know what he had done that was so wrong to be put in this spot. Blindness was his punishment for believing in love? No. No, no, no, this could not be happening! The dwarves would never accept him without his eyes. "But please, no, I-I can't fulfill my duties without my sight. That is not-no."

"If you are to gain Thorin Oakenshield's love then the spell will be lifted and forever more you will see in nothing but pure starlight," Thranduil made it sound enchanting.

Bilbo wanted to sob in panic, "B-but they will not yield. Without being able to see, they will banish me."

"If such impression is true then I will strictly order Meham to observe by distance so that he may aid you in return," Thranduil promised.

Bilbo didn't want to do this. "And if I don't... meet exact terms? What will happen then?"

"I will torture those dwarves one by one starting with your precious Oakenshield whilst you set and observe with your eyes forced open," Thranduil paused, watching as the hobbit grimaced at his threat, "Now... Do we have a bargain?"

Bilbo wasn't feeling good. His head hurt as so did his belly. There was too much to take in. And it seemed that he had no choice in the matter. The dwarves needed to be freed. Sure, when he's blind and thrown amongst them they are most likely to beat or banish him for his uselessness. "If I submit, that means that you'll let everyone go, and I will have been blinded? And if I can get Thorin to... love me then I will be able to see once again?"

"You have my word," Thranduil bowed his head slightly.

Bilbo shook his head all around. Everything a big messy truth. "Ok... Ok, I'll do it," he said, voice unsure and wobbly.

Thranduil could sense the halfling's insecurity and discomfort in the decision. He walked up to him and carefully pressed his thumb and four fingers on the trembling forehead beneath him. Then he whispered what sounded very beautiful but was a curse.

Bilbo made a small whimpering noise and shook, almost tempted to interrupt the elf and back out. He couldn't feel anything happening, but that was just the start. He could feel those fingers firmly pressing against his head and wondered how they weren’t slipping because of all his sweat and fear. There was a skip to the king's words, almost like he was praying.

And then he felt it.

His eyes began to ache and he hollered in tragedy. His head felt like drums of absolute pain. He yearned to free his hands and cradle his head, but he was stuck. His eyes felt like they were moving backwards in his sockets. It was horrifying.

Thranduil pulled away from the hobbit and looked toward the door. "Meham," he signaled the elf into his quarters and ordered him to untie the guest.

Bilbo gasped as the pain faded away and winced when someone grabbed his forearm. He felt severe relief wash over him and quickly went to rub his eyes once his left hand was free. He didn't pay attention to whoever it was untying him. The pain in his skull was too much to forget about. Bilbo panted and gasped as he slipped the blindfold off and felt his eyelids. He still had eyes, but they weren’t working.

"Oh," Bilbo sobbed, feeling like a failure already.

"Set the dwarves loose," Thranduil commanded, "I want your return swift. The halfling will need guidance into the forest."

"Yes, my lord," Meham left after untying the hobbit.

Thranduil slowly made way toward the small being and stroked his head, feeling the still damp hair curled to perfection. "I know that fortune lacks in the position are within but that is alright. You will suffice."

Bilbo felt as if his eyes weren't opened but the thing is that they were. Wide open. Everything was just black. It was like being put in a underground fortress in a pitch dark forest and covering one's face up with dirt. The panic and screaming of his heart felt like bear claws and he continued to paw at his eyes, trying to see something.

"Meham will return and soon guide you to the dwarves." Bilbo looked up at that, presumably in the direction he heard the voice. He was disturbed, faint, frightened and panicked. This was going to be a lot to get use to.

After about two hours, the dwarves had been freed and given a head start on their journey. None knew that it was Bilbo behind all this. The hobbit himself had been helped to get dressed in his old smelly clothes and sat in some room for the duration of return. Then the elf Meham had, once again, seized him by the wrist and told him to follow.

Bilbo had trouble finding his way, stumbling behind the elf and running into walls. Meham had finally relented and held his hand to properly guide him through the kingdom until they were outside where he helped Bilbo to mount his horse and hold on as they took off. They rode for a short amount of time before slowing down, Bilbo holding onto the back of the elf in fears of falling off. The entire time they had said nothing to each other. There was only the sturdy galloping of the horse and Bilbo's quick breathing.

"Your rival is near, halfling," Meham halted and said in a low but strict voice, "Just follow the path straight forward and they will find you."

Bilbo held himself still as the elf slipped off the horse before picking him up from under the arms. He could see nothing besides the utter darkness that was now his sight. He wasn't sure where they were, if it was night or day, if the forest was alive or dead or whether or not the walk was dangerous. Bilbo held his arms out, trying to keep from falling when he was set down.

"They'll never accept me like this," Bilbo breathed under his chin and faced the ground.

Meham noticed the hobbit's downcast and distressed emotions and felt a flicker of pity. "I will stand by," he said, trying to keep his voice clear of any remorse or kindness, "If the dwarves do not stand for you, I will guide you back to Lord Thranduil."

Bilbo didn't want to be rude. He already felt bad enough as it was. "Th-thank you, sir elf," he looked up, trying to blink as he faced the larger being, his smile wobbling.

Bilbo felt a sudden hand cup his chin and winced, but found his oxygen when his head was simply turned toward the left. He assumed it was just the elf pointing him in the right direction, not that Meham was trying to look him in the eyes.

Meham examined the hobbit's eyes and internally sighed. He would never think against his lord being as loyal as he was, but something about this little halfling made him second guess. Though it wasn't enough to make him take action. Meham placed a hand on the hobbit's shoulder and whispered, "I hope you only well, halfling."

Bilbo made that adorable face of shock, nearly stumbling back, but the elf grabbed him and turned him around. "Walk straight. Do not look back-or in any direction for that matter." He heard him instruct before giving him a light push forward.

Bilbo almost lost his balance and froze, tempted to look back like he had forgotten that he was now blind. He waited a moment, as if the entire world would come out and consume him, but nothing happened. The silent breeze moved on like everything else in life. Bilbo stood up straight, feeling the direction he was pushed in and timidly taking a few steps forward.

The ground was soft, like damp leaves and short grass. Bilbo lifted out his arms to feel around for any trees or blunt objects. In the distance he could hear the company and felt his heart jump with both joy and disappointment. He eagerly began walking forward, arms still braced as he listened to the beloved dwarf chatter and endless comments.

Bilbo could feel that he was just upon the pack when he bumped into a tree and started falling backwards. He landed unpleasantly on his rear with a loud thud and a rather clumsy "Oof!"

"Did you hear that, lads?" an unmistakable Balin asked.

Footsteps flipped and flopped all around before someone shouted, "Why it's Bilbo, our burglar!"

"Bofur," Bilbo lifted his hand out but kept his head down. He felt relieved when Bofur or one of the dwarves grabbed his arm and helped him to stand. He was being swamped in anonymous questions.

"Where've ya been, laddie?"

"Are ya alright?"

"How'd you escape the elves?"

"Were you the reason they let us out?"

....

"Bilbo... What's the matter?"

Bilbo clenched his eyes shut and shook his head, afraid to do anything. "I-I need to speak with Thorin. R-right now, please."

There was a longer pause of silence than Bilbo felt comfortable with and it made him shift around. He could tell that all the company was circled around him, listening, waiting and watching. They were curious, suspicious and interested. Too much for a small little hobbit like him to dodge.

"Lad...." Balin was the first to speak up, and Bilbo could tell that he was right beside him, "He's standing right in front of you."

Bilbo nearly jumped at the statement, knowing that he had been caught. He kept his head down but stood straighter, trying to find his words. "Thorin, I... There's something I need to tell you about what happened at Mirkwood," he said, sounding fretful.

"I am listening," He heard the king say intently.

Bilbo cleared his throat nervously, feeling the weight of so many eyes rested upon him but not actually seeing them. "The guards captured me individually and took me to Lord Thranduil. He... He made a deal with me that if he set you all free then I'd give him something in return.... And umm...."

The silence lingered. Bilbo heard feet shuffling and lifted his head some, not enough to reveal his secret. Then the love of his life was directly before him, he could sense it. "What did he take?" Thorin sounded serious and ready to get full blown angry.

"He took... It was something I... I lost my..." Bilbo stopped and sighed, his head hanging for a minute before he could find the courage to lift it. When he believed he was to the point Thorin would be able to see... He opened his eyes.

Everyone leaned forward and made displeased and startled noises. Bilbo's eyes no longer had pattern or pupils, the hole middle of it colored a bright blue that seemed to shine like silver mixed in with milk. It almost looks like the foggy parts of a frozen pond of water. His whole face was flushed with fear.

"Bilbo..." someone whispered, "Did they... Take your eyes?"

Bilbo bit his lip and looked in the direction he heard the voice. "Yes..." He answered bluntly, arms dropping at his sides, "they did."

A few comments began happening, the pack whispering all kinds of different things to each other. Bilbo stood straight however, waiting for a reply by none other than the king of Durin. "Thorin...?" he mumbled, taking a small step closer.

Everyone went silent again. Waiting for their king to say his opinion. "Bilbo," the air got unbearably thick and all faces scrunched up to _listen_ , "...." 

Not see.

 


End file.
